


Mir Da'len Somniar

by nightchandac



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, M/M, its ANGST TIME
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 14:37:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15488031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightchandac/pseuds/nightchandac
Summary: Nicos gets hurt, and Flynn has a very painful flashback.from the tumblr prompt "I'm sorry.  I know it hurts.  Here, hold my hand."





	Mir Da'len Somniar

**Author's Note:**

> Flynn's real name is Heofon

“No!”  The scream was ripped from Flynn almost involuntarily as he watched Nicos go flying through the air and slam into the rocky mountain wall, crashing to the ground in an unmoving heap.  He leapt at the enemy that had attacked Nicos, letting a snarl slip as he moved with expert finesse, slicing through their armor and leaving them stumbling as their life slipped away.

 

Flynn was at Nicos’s side the instant he knew the battle was over, wasting no time in getting a potion to his lips.  His heart was in his throat as he waited for it to take effect. “Nicos, come on, baby, wake up. You gotta wake up.”  He pulled Nicos into his arms, gently slapping his face to try to rouse him. Nicos made a small noise, coughing weakly, and Flynn gasped, ignoring the tears he felt forming.

 

“F-Flynn--ah--”  Nicos tried speaking and was sent into a violent coughing fit, whimpering between breaths.

 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Flynn said quietly, brushing the hair from Nicos’s face.  “Just breathe, okay? Just stay with me. Help is coming.” He looked around, watching as Blackwall ran off to camp for help and Dorian rummaged through his pouches for more potions or anything else to help while they waited.

 

Nicos whined again, hiding his face in Flynn’s shoulder and squeezing his eyes shut as he wheezed.  Flynn tried to keep his own breathing under control, masking his panic as best he could. “I know, baby.  I know it hurts, I’m sorry. Here, hold my hand, okay? You’re gonna be okay.” He slipped his hand in Nicos’s, squeezing gently for reassurance when he was suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of panic as a powerful memory overtook him.

 

_ \-- _

_ “Help!”  Flynn shouted.  The big man was blocking his exit from the aravel, but Flynn was ready to fight and kick and scream and bite--whatever it took to get this man away from him.  Behind him, a taller figure loomed and the man in the doorway fell to his knees with a grunt. _

 

_ “Heofon!  Da’len, are you hurt?” _

 

_ “Papae!” Flynn waited as his father made his way to him, wrapping his arms around him tightly.  The big man rose unsteadily, spitting in anger and glaring at Flynn and his father. “P-papae, behind you--”  He was cut off when the big man shoved them both down. His father rolled, kicking up to throw the man off-balance, and shot a quick spell at him.  He rose, motioning for Flynn to stay down, and stood over him protectively. Flynn watched them fight, panicked breathing picking up as he fought his instinct to jump into the fray.  His father sent fire at the man, but he blocked it, sending the fire off into the wall and setting it ablaze. It was enough to distract his father and land a blow to his temple. Flynn cried out as he watched the big man thrust his knife through his father’s chest and turn his attention to Flynn.  As his father’s body landed next to him, he scrambled back, shouting through tears, too terrified to fight back. Suddenly the man went rigid and the aravel, smoke starting to fill the space, lit up purple. Eorthan leapt between the big man and Flynn and he struck out once more, but not before the big man lashed out with his knife, sending Eorthan across into the opposite wall.  Flynn heard a growl and Eorthan launched himself at the big man, hands alight with more lightning, blood dripping down his face. He landed a killing blow almost instantly, and without hesitation, dragged Flynn from the burning aravel. _

 

_ Flynn felt nothing and everything all at once as soon as fresh air hit his lungs.  Eorthan was patting furiously at Flynn’s hip and he thought he should feel searing pain radiating from the area.  The smell told him his pants had caught fire. But he couldn’t feel it. No, all he could feel was the fire in his abdomen.  He hazarded a glance down and saw red--angry, wet red. He let his head drop back down and squeezed his eyes shut against the pain, refusing to let anyone hear the cries of pain he so desperately wanted to let out.   _

 

_ He was suddenly wrapped in a set of warm, comforting arms, and he tensed, and as soon as he let one startled cry out, he couldn’t stop.  He was sobbing, exhausted and terrified.  _

 

_ “Shh, baby, shhh.  I’m here, I’ve got you.  You’re gonna be okay.” _

 

_ Flynn sagged in his mother’s arms, suddenly relieved, though the fear still gripped him.  “M-mamae…” was all he could manage, his voice quiet and weak. _

 

_ “I know it hurts, baby.  I’ve got you.” He felt her hand press against his stomach, and she called out to Eorthan.  He couldn’t make out what they were saying. Suddenly her voice sounded in his ears, quiet and close.  He could feel her breath on his face. “ _ Elgara vallas, da'len.  Melava somniar. Mala taren aravas. Ara ma'desen melar… _ ” _

 

_ She was singing him a lullaby.   _

_ \-- _

 

“Flynn, you have to let go.”  Gentle hands pried Nicos from his protective arms, and he shook his head, trying to clear his mind from the haze of the flashback and bring himself back to the present.  He watched them carry Nicos on a stretcher, feeling as if he was watching everything happen outside his own body. Dorian offered him a hand, pulling him up when he didn’t respond, and held a steady and on his shoulder as he guided him along.

 

He was seated at the fire and a blanket was throw over his shoulders when they arrived at camp and he watched Nicos disappear into the healers’ tent.  A figure sat next to him and placed a mug of steaming tea into his hands. 

 

“He’ll be all right, lad.  He’s strong. And he has you watching out for him.”  Blackwall’s quiet voice came.

 

Flynn nodded and forced himself to drink.  Nicos would be all right. He still had a world to save.

 

Flynn hugged his knees to his chest and found himself humming to himself, a familiar lullaby.


End file.
